If this, the road at dawn, becomes my choice
to sanctify my heart with one last glance
into the twilit memories: your voice,
that chair, a song, some final circumstance.
If this, the dusty red that fades to gray,
becomes the time I travel through my doubt
as faith becomes the night, I choose the day
to rest within uncertainty, without
the fear of loss. This road is marked as well
as memories remembered from the past
when you and I communed but did not tell
ourselves that night and darkness wouldn’t last
If this is life, the spirit of the dawn
releases me and I will travel on.